


King John

by SweetToothFox



Category: Sherlock (TV), Sherlock Holmes - Arthur Conan Doyle
Genre: Anderson's a dick, Evil!Molly Hooper, F/F, Harry Watson's a lesbian, John IS Gay, John is a king, John is cold-blooded, John is cool, M/M, Moriarty dies, Moriarty is a bit gay, Moriarty ships Johnlock, Moriarty's a dickhead, Myrcroft and Greg are married, Other, Seriously what kind of a name is philip anderson, Sherlock dies, Sherlock has heterocromatic eyes, Sherlock is a Spy, Sherlock is super gay, it's the reichenbach fall dudes, like really gay, no wonder he's an asshole, seriously though does anyone really believe sherlock's dead, switching POVs
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-05-18
Updated: 2018-01-16
Packaged: 2018-11-02 03:51:00
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Major Character Death, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 11
Words: 8,278
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10936407
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SweetToothFox/pseuds/SweetToothFox
Summary: King John is a ruthless king and Sherlock Holmes is a rebel. Sherlock gets caught and tries to flirt his way out of being killed.This is completely un-beta'd so I apologize for bad writing or any grammar mistakes!Also: Will add warnings or tags as they appear. The major character death is weird, so I don't know how to tag it.





	1. Introduction

Everyone knew about King John Watson’s ‘justice.’ You were either sent to the mines indefinitely or killed in some gruesome way. It was better to be sent to the mines for life. It was a less painful death.

But the resistance somehow remained active. They struck in between patrols, in less controlled areas. Everyone knew of them, or their leader. But rarely was even one of their agents captured.

Their leader was, of course, Mycroft Holmes. He lead along with his husband and right-hand man, Gregory Lestrade. They struck ruthlessly everywhere they did, though no one knew where they led from.

There was one more name everyone knew in the resistance. He was the one who always appeared to lead the soldiers away from where the attacks were happening, always in the wrong place. Occasionally he killed a few soldiers or defaced something, but never as big a crime as the rest of the resistance. His name was Sherlock Holmes, brother of Mycroft. There were rumors about him and his otherworldly powers. Some said he could look at you and know everything about you. Some claimed he could do it from a whiff of perfume or a scrap of cloth. No one knew the truth.

He was truly mysterious, unlike the rest of the resistance, which was open about the number of agents they had and where they had attacked. But no one knew what Sherlock did, until that one fateful day.


	2. Caught

Sherlock's POV

I was caught vandalizing the statue of the King in the main square, close after midnight. A soldier walking home after his shift saw me. I couldn’t get away in time.

I was brought in front of the King. Like all trials, only the King and his deaf, mute guards were allowed in.

I had become sloppy. I supposed it was the drugs that did it. They made me cocky, and trying to melt off King John’s face was too much. So here I was, in front of the man himself.

I was walked into the throne room and thrown roughly onto the ground. I heard the King’s footsteps on the floor as he walked in and sat. The uneven tapping signaled a limp.

“Rise.” Said the King.

I stood up. The King was dressed in royal blue and purple robes. A simple crown lay on his dark blond hair. I smiled as I noticed the obvious details in his figure and stance. The colours, the pose, the robe, everything betrayed him.

“King John Watson.” I spat. “Your limp is worse. Your physical therapy isn’t working. Your sister isn’t doing well, and she needs your help. Your time as a war doctor scars your hands and your eyes. You long for action again. And then there’s the gay bit.”

“Excuse me?”

I smiled. “You heard me perfectly.”

“But-how?” The King was quite confused.

I don’t want to explain everything, but I can’t resist showing off. “Your limp is obvious from the way you walk, but it’s all in your head, believe me. Your sister, well, everyone knows about Harriet, the outcast sister to the king. Your hands show the scars from battle, but your eyes glint with the want for more. Your outfit, the colours and style are not that of a heterosexual male, O great king.”

He was shocked. “But- “

“Yes, yours is fabulous, but that is not what we were discussing, I believe.” I chuckled to myself. “What is my sentence, O king? I am a rebel in your kingdom. Shall I die for my crimes against you?” And there it was. The trap.

 

John's POV

He had beautiful, curly black hair and eyes that seemed to shift colour with every movement he made. His clothes were dark and form-fitting. He held himself with authority, despite being a common rebel.

His eyes raked over me and seemed to draw out everything about me, including my secret. No one knew of my love for men. They assumed I hadn’t met a woman I loved yet. I had assumed that for a long time as well. But I was gay, really. And somehow Sherlock Holmes knew it.

“Don’t be afraid of sentencing me,” He said, walking forwards. “It’s not like you haven’t don’t it before.”

“Stop right there!” My voice shook.

He stopped in his tracks. His eyes taunted me. “What next, great King John?”

“Guards.” I ordered. “Leave us.” They turned and left. The door closed and I stood up, walking towards Sherlock. “What are you doing to me?”

“I don’t know what you mean.”

“You know exactly what I mean.” I snapped. “You are torturing me, refusing to let me punish you like I would an ordinary criminal. _What are you doing_?”

“I’m flirting, obviously. How do you punish unordinary criminals, I wonder?” He moved forwards. “The other, bad criminals that you can’t punish ordinarily. What do you do to them, hmmm?”

I met his eyes, twinkling and shifting colour. “You’d better be good if you want to find out.”

“Who says I’m ever going to be good?” Holmes raised his chin.

I swept my good leg forwards and he fell, head hitting the ground. He was immediately knocked out cold. “Idiot.” I muttered.


	3. Punished

Sherlock’s POV

I woke up in a dark cell. The only light was from a small lantern burning on the wall opposite me.

I couldn’t believe how stupid I was. The king had played me easily, then knocked me out. Everyone would assumed he had killed me, and I was stuck down here.

Why was I stuck down here? I had just been baiting him with the ‘unordinary criminal’ thing. Did he really take me seriously?

I couldn’t think of any ways to escape. They hadn’t drugged me- I knew that feeling- but one leg was chained to the wall. There was no way to get out.

So I waited. I retreated into my mind palace and meditated, and time passed quickly. I couldn’t know exactly how much time had passed, but the lamp burned out fast, leaving me in total darkness.

Finally, after a long time, the door opened. King John and two guards carrying torches walked in, dragging someone behind them. I couldn’t see him clearly.

King John smiled. “I have decided on your punishment. This is James Moriarty. A dirty criminal like yourself, but one we captured years ago. He… is interesting.”

I knew of Moriarty. It was not my first time encountering him. He had a mind that almost matched mine.

“He’ll stay in here for a while. Have fun!” Laughed King John.

The guards put the torches in special wall holders and they left. Moriarty stayed in the room with me. No chains, no locks, no guards. Idiots. This was James Moriarty, a criminal like no other.

“Hello, Sherlock. Long time, no see.” Moriarty greeted, his faint Irish brogue stronger than I remembered.

“Moriarty. How are you? I told you I’d catch you later, and here we are.” I smiled, but the expression didn’t reach my eyes. “What are you here for.”

“Well, the king told me you were here and I can never pass up a chance to see an old friend! Nice place you’ve got. Very- dusty. “That’s all people really are, you know: dust waiting to be distributed. And it gets everywhere … in every breath you take, dancing in every sunbeam, all used-up people.”

I groaned. “How disgustingly poetic. What do you want?”

“Well, the King is completely and totally attracted to you and I couldn’t resist a chance to laugh at the whole ordeal. And, you know, the King and the Criminal does have a ring to it. Besides, every fairy tale needs a good old-fashioned villain. And I do love that part.”

 

John’s POV

I didn’t want to lock Moriarty up with him, not really. But he seemed to look at me and understand everything I was feeling. Both of them did. When Moriarty threatened to tell the whole kingdom, I had no choice. I locked them up together. I would let them destroy each other, and the kingdom would be safe.

But there were other things I didn’t understand. Sherlock knew about my limp, and my sister, and the war, and my sexuality. He looked at me with those beautiful, multi-coloured eyes and knew everything about me. His lithe, athletic body had aroused me like no woman ever had. If I ever had any doubts, they were gone the moment I looked at him.

The crime ring he belonged to was demanding answers. They knew when someone had been killed, and, because he hadn’t, they wanted a reason. They wanted him back and offered almost anything.

Not that I could ever give him back. I would have to kill him eventually, or face the consequences. I had gained a fierce reputation from the war and my swift justice against anyone, and I was not about to let that go.

I had two choices. Kill him, or marry him. It was ironic, really. Kill the man I was attracted to, or announce my marriage to another man and a public criminal and possibly piss off a large number of my citizens. I could not decide to do either.

I dearly hoped that Moriarty managed to kill him before I had to decide. Or, even better, they killed each other and I got rid of two criminals with one cell.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I didn't have any idea what I was going to do with this... Please comment- I'm like every other AO3 writer and comments are everything.  
> I do have two questions if anybody is actually reading this: 1) Should I do more than John's and Sherlock's POVs, and if so, who would you like to see? And 2) Should I focus more on the Mycroft/Lestrade thing?  
> Update: I'm kind of on hiatus right now (I'm in the middle of moving to a different country) but I will read any ideas/comments and will update ASAP!


	4. Tortured

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mycroft stresses about Sherlock and the crime organization and Lestrade calms him down. Meanwhile, Moriarty threatens Sherlock down in the dungeons.

Mycroft’s POV

I paced around my office, umbrella in hand. My dear Lestrade stood out of my way, patiently explaining the situation to me for the third time that day.

“So my dear brother got himself captured by the King, but he’s not dead, which we know because of our spies inside the castle. We suspect he’s in the dungeons with Moriarty, the one person besides me who can possibly match him, because he hasn’t been seen recently.” I summed up.

Greg slowly nodded. “It’s been nearly a week, Mycroft. We need to get him out of there.”

“I’m not worried about him.” I snapped. “I’m worried about this crime organization and what the knowledge that our top operative has been caught will do to our public image.”

My partner smiled. “You are worried, Mike, more than you care to admit.” He embraced me around the waist from behind, forcing me to cease my movements across the room.

I knew I should be focusing on the matter at hand, but I couldn’t resist weakening at the knees a little at the way he rocked me back and forth, whispering softly.

“You need to relax, Mycroft. Take a break for a little. You’ve barely been in bed the past days.” He reminded me. “Just take the rest of the day off and relax.”

I smiled, despite my efforts not to show emotion. “I don’t think I know how to do that.”

He chuckled, and his chest pushed against mine. I did miss just sitting and talking to him, not that I would ever admit it. I sighed, finally conceding. “Just for today.”

“Good enough.”

 

Sherlock’s POV

“You see Sherlock,” Moriarty droned, “We’re the same, you and me. Except for one small difference.”

I didn’t react. He was getting kind of boring, but I stayed alert for any kind of comment I could use against him or John.

“Aren’t you going to guess? No? I’ll tell you. I’m better. I’m always a step ahead of you. I’ve been whispering in John’s ear for months, now, encouraging him to kill every prisoner that comes before him, slowly breaking down your organization.” He taunted.

“People have died because of you game, Moriarty.” I snapped.

“That’s what people DO!” He yelled. “Don’t you see, Sherlock? Ordinary people just die. But us? We’re special. You don’t deserve an easy death. You see, I will burn the heart out of you. And I will kill that brother of yours, and his silly pet, Lestrade, and the King you so shamelessly flirt with. And I will rule, ‘cause, honey, you should see me in a crown.”

I rolled my eyes at that. He was just being dramatic. My brother often called me a drama queen, but he hadn’t met Moriarty. I just hoped he got me out of here soon. Because whatever Moriarty was planning, it wasn’t good.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm finally posting again! I'm really sorry for the long wait. I'm already working on the next chapter, so I'll try to get that up ASAP.


	5. Dead

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jingle Bells  
> Watson smells  
> Johnlock is canon  
> Sherlock dies  
> Mystrade cries  
> And a plot twist  
> YAY!

Sherlock’s POV

Moriarty was droning on, but I was ignoring him, instead retreating to my mind palace and trying to figure out a way to escape. The shackle on my leg was well-crafted enough that I couldn’t break it without Moriarty noticing, which was not in any way ideal. The only way I could get it was convince everyone I had died, so they would take me out. But Moriarty would know… unless he was dead as well.

“See, there’s a very simple difference between you and me.” Moriarty was saying. “I’ve accepted death as a part of life. You’ll do anything to avoid it. The thing is, you need to embrace death. So this is what’s going to happen.”

I perked up internally, while keeping the outer façade of meditation.

“You’re going to die. You’re going to shoot yourself and die, or John, your brother, and dear little Lestrade will die.” He said. “You’ll die, or my agents will get the signal to kill every single one of them. You’ll only save them by killing yourself and therefore uprooting the entire resistance.”

I wanted to make fun of his plan, but I had to keep a straight face.

“You can open your eyes. I know you’re listening.” He said. I did, knowing it was futile to keep them closed. To my surprise, Moriarty was holding the key to the shackle I was wearing. He threw it to me. “Unlock yourself. I want this to be more dramatic.”

I did, becoming suspicious. The next thing I knew, I was pulled right up to Moriarty’s face, and he was holding a gun.

“You’re not the only one dying today, Sherlock. The two prisoners, together in life and in death. You’ve got to admit, that’s sexier.”

I could barely breathe as I tried to figure out his plan.

“You die, and my agents let your friends live.” He said.

All of a sudden, the gun was in his mouth, and he blew his brains out.

Hands shaking slightly, I took the gun from his hand and put against my head.

And I pulled the trigger.

 

Lestrade POV

The news came quickly. Sherlock and Moriarty had been found dead in the cell they were sharing. Both had their brains blown out. The remains were in King John’s prisoner cemetery.

When Mycroft heard the news, he sat down, head in hands. He didn’t cry- he never cried- but he was upset. “What did you do, baby brother?” He whispered.

I sat next to him, enveloping my husband in my arms. “I’m sorry.”

He shook his head. “He did it for a reason. It’s our responsibility to find out why. Shut down this entire facility until we can personally interrogate every agent. No one leaves!”

I relayed his orders to the guards, who immediately got to work.

“Anything else, darling?” I asked.

He nodded. “We need to get the remains. I want to burn them. One I’ve vetted a team, we’ll send them to the palace. I want full reports from every agent in the castle about everything they heard and saw. Suspicions about agents in our organization. Everything. Oh, and find out how our dear ruler reacted.”

I nodded. This was how he dealt with any emotion- being as cold and calculating as possible, to block out the pain. I didn’t understand it, but I didn’t need to. I was there for him, and that was what was important.

A guard entered. “Commanders! We found someone trying to escape. He’s in the prison block now, but you should come interrogate him.”

“Thank you. Who is it?” I asked as Mycroft began gathering paper and quills for recording.

“Anderson, sir.” The guard reported.

I rolled my eyes. “Wonderful. He was probably sneaking off to get food. Mike, you coming?”

“My name is Mycroft, if you could possibly struggle all the way through it.” He said irritably.

“Well then, Mycroft, _darling,_ are you coming?”

“Obviously.”

We exited the office and I locked it, checking each lock twice before we followed the guard to Anderson’s cell. I was going to enjoy interrogating him on Sherlock’s behalf, who hated the man with a passion and was always suspicious of him. Now, we could see if he was right.

For all our sakes, I hoped he wasn’t.

 

John POV

I was shocked by the deaths of them both, but not annoyed. I was glad to have gotten rid of both of my main enemies. Neither of them were on my conscience any more. Add that to the fact that my main enemy besides the resistance was gone and the main agent of the resistance was gone, and it was practically Christmas.

So why did it feel so wrong?

I felt like I was missing something, but I wasn’t sure what. Had I really fallen for Sherlock after meeting him once and throwing him in a cell? Or was it just that I missed the greatest resource for analyzing people, Jim Moriarty. He didn’t have the same abilities as Sherlock had been rumored to have. No, Jim could manipulate in a way Sherlock either couldn’t or wouldn’t do. He was willing to use any and all force necessary to bend anyone to his will, including take his own life in the process.

Apparently, that had been necessary, in order to kill Sherlock Holmes.

Just then, a guard entered, carrying a parchment envelope, on which was written _For the eyes of King John only._

I opened the sealed envelope and pulled out the letter.

_To the Great King John Watson,_

_You know who I am, so I won’t bother introducing myself. I would like to request you return my brother’s remains to me, so that I may bury him as he wished._

_I know how important he was to you, and the group I have sent with this letter have bargaining rights on the behalf of me and my organization._

_Please, I beg of you, let me say a final goodbye to my brother._

I read the letter and signature, then checked the seal to make sure it was genuine.

I signaled for the guards to let the agents in. I needed to discuss with them, and at great length. Just to be safe, I threw the letter in the fire and watched it burn, the signature the last this to do so.

_Sincerely,_

_James Moriarty_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi, everyone who is still hanging on to this pathetic work that is my fic! I sincerely apologize for the long wait. High school has been hectic, but I’m trying to get on a regular updating schedule, hopefully twice a week (HA!). Hope you enjoyed the long chapter, and have fun with that plot twist. Let me know if there are any characters you really want to see written in- I’m always open to suggestions and want to make you happy, so I check my email daily. See you Monday!


	6. Question

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Anderson is interrogated and John gets a little shock.  
> Happy Christmas!

Mycroft POV

I sat in front of Anderson’s cell, at a small table. Unspeaking, I spread out my parchment, quills, and ink, not even glancing up. My husband stood behind me, staring Anderson down.

When I was ready to begin, I signalled Lestrade, something only he would notice.

“Philip Anderson, you are being interrogated for the possible betrayal of Sherlock Holmes, brother of Mycroft Holmes, to the king we have sworn to overthrow. By our laws, the price for betrayal is death.” He said in a clear, strong voice. I wrote down every word for the records of the Resistance, but rarely elected to speak during interrogations, unless absolutely necessary. “What do you have to say for yourself?”

“I think that these are absolutely unsupported claims and I have been a follower and agent of the Resistance since the beginning.” He replied in an annoying, nasally voice. “How dare you question my allegiance now?”

“You were reported as trying to sneak out of headquarters immediately after an organization-wide shutdown was called, after the betrayal of an agent,” Lestrade responded evenly. “What do you have to say to this?”

“What proof do you have that I was trying to sneak out?” He asked.

I wanted to kill him, right then and there, but Resistance tradition ordered we interrogate him and either have concrete evidence or a confession before he was publicly killed.

“You were spotted, Anderson!” Lestrade bellowed. “You were seen by multiple guards sneaking out of this facility, when no mission, especially one including you, had been ordered by your leaders. If you were going to try and sneak out, you should have at least made sure there were no guards around when you did. I have at least five soldiers that will testify against you. _What do you say to that?”_

“But I did! I did check for guards before I went.” He blurted, before realizing what he had just said.

I spoke. “Philip Anderson, you are hereby sentenced to death for the betrayal of this organization of resistance to the King, who we have sworn to overthrow. The laws of the Resistance order nothing less than public execution for this crime. Your punishment shall take place at noon tomorrow. You shall then be deposited at the steps of the palace of the king you have chosen over your own people. Enjoy your last hours, betraying filth.”

I normally did not show this much emotion, or emotion at all, but this was my brother he had killed. I was not willing to show any leniency or pity.

“Please!” He pleaded. “I have information. About him! About Sherlock! Don’t you want to know what really happened?”

Lestrade turned. “Shut up before I decide to torture you slowly instead.”

He shut up, and Lestrade put his arm around my shoulder, guiding me out, even his solidarity comforting.

 

John POV

I breathed deeply as Moriarty’s agents left the throne room. As useful as they were, I hated dealing with them. Every single one acted as if emotions were a thing of the past, as if they were made of stone. It shook me to the bone, but it was necessary for the health of my safety and the kingdom.

They had reported some disturbing news, including the fact that one of our spies in the Resistance had been captured and was set to be killed. He was one of many, though, and it didn’t matter too much overall.

Sighing, I sat back in my throne and motioned for the petitioners to be brought in. As a sign of care and respect, I reserved one day a week for solving my citizen’s problems. It normally involved a lot of crying and begging on the citizen’s part, and a lot of orders to behead or imprison on mine.

I went through the task mindlessly, occasionally awarding money or land to a subject to amuse myself. As I did, though, my mind wandered, pondering over why the great Sherlock Holmes would have killed himself.

It wasn’t like him at all, or at least what we knew of him. Moriarty, as always, had a clever plan to kill him, but I had expected him to last longer. Put up more of a fight. From what I knew, that was his style.

The last subject to come before me was dressed in a dark robe, but I recognized the red embroidery on the bottom. I dismissed the guards before speaking.

“What are you doing here?” I asked coldly.

The man flipped back his hood, revealing the cold, dead-looking face of my old, trusted, and feared ally, James Moriarty. His black eyes made me shiver as they seemed to look into my very soul. I was shocked enough that he was willing to risk revealing his face, but it was the three words he spoke that made me tremble with fear and worry for myself and my kingdom.

“Sherlock isn’t dead.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy Christmas y'all! Here's the next chapter, enjoy. Hopefully, I can continue this schedule.


	7. Death

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> So sorry this is late- completely forgot!  
> Anderson is executed and we see Sherlock once again.

Anderson POV

I breathed deeply as I was pulled roughly out of the cell, arms tied behind my back. I knew these would be my final moments whether I escaped or not. The king would kill me for my mistakes if I made it out, or I would die at the hands of the organization I had vowed to overthrow.

I knew escape would be impossible until the very last moment, when I was brought into the courtyard that served as the organization’s public everything. There, I would have the opportunity to say my final words, before I was killed by beheading.

So I went quietly, with no argument or struggle. All the Resistance’s members were gathered, and I was taken on the platform, my knees kicked out so I had to kneel, though I would have done it willingly.

“Philip Anderson, you have been accused and found guilty of the betrayal of this organization, known as the Resistance,” Mycroft Holmes announced from the balcony where he stood,” The punishment is death, for you and all your compatriots.  You have given us no names, leaving us with only one choice. Your chosen partner, Sally Donovan, will be executed alongside you.”

There she was. Tied up the same as I was, brought up to the platform, and made to kneel.

“Sally,” I whispered, “I’m sorry.”

“Shut up.” She snapped.

 “Will you give us the names of your allies, or will this woman burn alongside you?”

I lifted my chin. “I would rather burn a thousand times than watch my allies die and this Resistance succeed.”

“So be it,” Said Greg Lestrade. “What are your last words, betraying filth?”

I smirked. “Three words. I am going to destroy everything with three words, the words that will be repeated by everyone in the kingdom and strike fear into their hearts, but I will be dead, unable to explain them. Would you like to know what they are?”

“Your last words, Anderson!” Said Mycroft sharply.

“Oh, you know what, I’ll do it in two.”

“You have five seconds to speak.” That was Lestrade. I could see the executioner raise his weapon.

“I’m sorry, Sally.” I whispered. Then, raising my voice for the last words I would ever utter, “Not dead.”

The sword fell.

 

Sherlock POV

I panted as I stumbled through the disgustingly dirty sewers, trying to catch my breath amongst all the filth. I’d been trying to find an exit for days, with no luck. The maps of these tunnels were never very accurate, and not having eaten for a long time didn’t help.

I thought I saw a light up ahead, but it could have been my imagination. Desperate, I walked forwards, trying to find some way to go just a little bit further, just a little bit…

My legs gave out and I curled up in the sewage, unable to keep my sense of dignity of go any further. I was so done with everything, why couldn’t the universe just let me die?

Well, that was kind of my fault. I could have, but really, it would have been much more inconvenient.

I could feel myself drifting off, and couldn’t or wasn’t willing to stop it.

“Sherlock!” Someone said, whether in my head or out loud, I couldn’t tell, but I didn’t care.

“Sherlock, you bastard, don’t you dare.” It sounded a bit like Lestrade, not that I cared. “I am not letting you die on us now.”

I was fading, quickly, but something was keeping me alive. I just wanted to sleep…

“Sherlock, don’t die, mummy will be oh so upset.” Mycroft, definitely.

“Shut the fuck up,” I muttered.

I let myself be enveloped by the darkness, not caring anymore. I had done my part, hadn’t I? If my damn brother wanted to overthrow the stupid, bigoted (beautiful, sexy) king, he was going to do it without me.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, so, so, so, so sorry for the late update! It absolutely slipped my mind...  
> Enjoy the new chapter and see you Monday. Happy new year, Christmas, and everything else!  
> Also, yes, I know this is a very similar chapter name to a previous one. So what.


	8. Secrets

Lestrade POV

“Brother dear, please do explain how you ended up, absolutely disgustingly mud-soaked, in my office,” Mycroft said.

Our former top agent sighed, slumping back in his chair, “I am not explaining anything.”

“Sherlock, really,” I sighed, “This might give us information on how to defeat the king. We need anything we can get, at all costs. How did you fake your death and escape?”

Sherlock stood up, “If you’re planning to defeat him, you do it without me. I met him, and he’s being controlled somehow, by some other force. I thought it was Moriarty, but he’s dead, and John’s still under someone’s control.”

“Oh, you’re on first name terms with the oppressor now? When should I expect the happy announcement?” Mycroft mocked, “This is the most horrible, controlling ruler this land has ever known. I never thought you could be this foolish.”

“I am not being foolish!” He shouted.

“Is that emotion talking?”

Sherlock snarled. “No, it’s me.”

“There seems to be no difference at this point in time,” I broke in, “Now, how did you escape, Sherlock?”

“Not telling. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have a king to investigate. Actually, I have a king to investigate whether you excuse me or not. Good day,” He walked out.

Mycroft turned to me, “What now?”

I shrugged, “He’s angry and hurt, but the information he gave us might have been useful.”

“What information?” Mycroft spat.

“Think about it,” I said, “Sherlock mentioned someone manipulating or controlling him. If we can figure out what that force is, maybe we can take down the king.”

“Now you’re sounding like him!” My husband exclaimed, “This is a king we have worked tirelessly for years to take down. This changes _nothing._ ”

I bowed my head, “Okay, fine. What do you want to do next?”

“Don’t let my brother out of the complex. He stays here. Contact our spies in the castle and see if they can tell us about anything unusual happening recently. Even something seemingly irrelevant.”

I nodded, “Anything else?”

“Tell all troops that Sherlock may have talked to that he is  no longer to be trusted about anything concerning the king or orders from us,’ Mycroft said, “He is no longer  an agent of the Resistance!”

Sherlock POV

Sneaking out of the complex before my brother gave the order was easy. I knew he was likely to order it, so I simply left before he gave the official order.

I walked swiftly towards the castle, through secret tunnels and passageways known to very few. Some of them, not even my brother was aware of. I was able to quickly make my way to the Resistance’s entrance to the castle and slip inside.

As always, an agent was waiting there for any agents that might come through or anybody that accidentally came through. (It did happen occasionally, and it was very amusing when it did.)

“Mister Holmes!” The agent, a young soldier, jumped up, “We weren’t expecting you.”

“That is generally the point of my movements, soldier,” I said, “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have a king to deal with.”

He nodded, “Yes, sir. I do have to report your entrance to Mycroft and Gregory, though.”

“Do that and you’ll never see the light of day again.” I threatened. “This is my private mission, and you’ll do good to forget you ever knew about it. Do I make myself clear?”

The soldier gulped and nodded, “Yes, sir. Understood, sir.”

I nodded and walked into the castle. It was easy to knock out a guard and steal a uniform, and pretending to be deaf and mute was easy- it did it often when my brother was around. I was able to replace a guard who was entering the throne room, and there I stood and watched. I knew King John often relaxed in his chambers for several hours in the morning before starting any activity for the day, which meant he should be entering soon.

About an hour later, the king entered. He was dressed very formally, but there weren’t any proclamations scheduled for today, which meant he was trying to impress someone. Now I just had to figure out who…

A cloaked figure with a fancy cloak entered the room. Red embroidery on the bottom immediately alerted me. That colour was only used for official agents of the king who were given the highest level of respect. As far as I knew, he only had one, but that one had died in the cell with me.

The guards were dismissed, but I managed to not close the door all the way so I could hear what they were saying.

“What do you want?” John’s harsh voice echoed in the room, “This is the second time you’ve payed me a visit. Why?”

“You know why,” Said the voice. It was definitely Moriarty, but that wasn’t possible.

“No, I don’t.”

“I told you yesterday that he isn’t dead, even though my brother is, and you have done nothing!” Said the second voice, “He could be anywhere, and you are letting him.”

“I have not done nothing,” Said the King, “My troops in the Resistance are more active than ever before, and everyone is on constant watch for him. He will not move without my knowledge.”

“I’m sure.” Came the drawling voice, “Now, what are we going to do about him? We can’t wait for him to move.”

“You do not need to know every detail of my movements,” Said the king.

“No, I don’t. Because you don’t have any. You have no plan, because you’re in love with him and don’t want to do anything about it. Now, if I were the king, and I basically am, I would suggest you search every building in the city for any sign of the Resistance or where he might be hiding. Start with your own castle and expand from there. Be swift and merciless,” Ordered Moriarty.

“Or what?” Asked John, voice shaking minutely.

“Or I kill your parents and your sister, and just take the kingdom for myself. Do we have a deal?” Teased the snake.

John agreed, and Moriarty left the chamber just as I hid, puzzling over the new information.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi! I'm so so so so sorry this is late, but I'm updating it again! Hopefully, I'll get two chapters up today, but who knows, my schedule is still crazy.


	9. Planning

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mycroft gets angry, Sherlock and John discuss. Sorry for the late post!

Mycroft POV

“You’re telling me that he just walked out of the compound and to the palace and somehow none of you managed to see him or catch him?” I ranted at the guards who had reported my brother missing, “You knew he was supposed to stay here so that he didn’t do something stupid and nearly get himself killed or actually get himself killed again, and none of you managed to catch him?”

“Mycroft, calm down, they didn’t get the order in time,” Gregory said quietly.

I turned to him, “I don’t care! They should have known are they should have stopped him.”

“He was our top agent and allowed to do whatever she wanted for a long time. They didn’t know anything was different.”

“That doesn’t matter!” I shouted, “He’s my brother and he’s going to get himself killed!”

“Don’t yell at me,” Gregory whispered, then turned to the agents, “Dismissed. Leave us.”

They turned and left, eager to get out of the tense room. My husband turned to me, eyes full of anger and worry.

“You cannot keep blaming this on everyone else, Mycroft,” He said, “This was Sherlock’s decision, and you can’t blame it on anyone but him. Now, you have two choices now, either help him or ignore him. Either one would be valid, but it’s your choice. Just stop blaming it on everyone else, and don’t you dare yell at me again, Mycroft.”

I breathed slowly, “I’m sorry. Really.”

His eyes softened, “It’s okay. What do you want to do about him?”

“We’ll wait three days, then send a message and see if he responds. If not, we move in, or if he needs us to. Until then, we mobilize everyone we can and get ready for a move in on the king. No matter what Sherlock tells us, we strike in four days.”

He nodded, “I’ll spread the orders. Get some rest, darling.”

I smiled. Normally, I hated that nickname, but anything Gregory said was endearing, “I will. I love you.”

“Love you too, Mycroft. I’ll have the chefs prepare cake for when you wake up.” He smiled, closing the door.

“Shut up,” I muttered, already sinking back onto the couch.

John POV

“I know you’re there, so you can come out already, Moriarty,” I said loudly, having already dismissed the guards.

Footsteps behind me confirmed my suspicions, “How did you know I was here?” That voice wasn’t Moriarty.

“How are you here?” I asked.

“Your guards are pathetic, and the Resistance has secret passages everywhere. I snuck in and listened to your conversations, O dear King. I know what you’re planning to do, and I know why,” Sherlock Holmes said from behind my throne, “I want to help you, John, because I know what that kind of manipulation feels like.”

“You have no idea what this feels like, and you never will. Your brother is your only living relative, and he leads this silly Resistance you’re a part of,” I snapped.

“I had a boyfriend, three years ago. Jonathan Alexander Smith,” He said quietly, “He was a Resistance agent. You captured him and tortured him, threatening to kill him unless I was surrendered.”

I remembered the incident very clearly. I had personally watched several of the sessions.

“My brother had to physically chain me down in the dungeon for a week while he tried to negotiate with you. You killed him when I was not given up,” Sherlock finished.

“I remember,” I said, voice stronger than I expected, “I remember every agent in the Resistance we’ve ever captured, but he was special. He never gave up, never broke in the slightest. He was convinced you would save him.”

“So was I,” Sherlock said, “I was willing to do anything for him, just like you now. Let me help you, or my brother will storm this castle and destroy everything you love, including your parents, your sister, and Moriarty.”

“How do I know you’re telling the truth?” I asked, turning to face him.

Sherlock rolled his eyes, “In three days, one of the Resistance agents will manage to get a letter to me. The contents will warn me to respond with information or my brother will storm the castle with all the might of the Resistance forces. I will show it to you, but until then, you have to trust me,” He paused, “For Harriet, if for nothing else.”

My throat tightened, “Never, ever utter her name as a threat again, or I will have your head myself.”

“My apologies,” He came to the front of the throne and bowed his head, “How may I help you best, your Majesty?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey, everyone! Sorry again for the late post. Hope you enjoy, and see you Friday!


	10. Changeable

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> What happens when Sherlock, Moriarty, Lestrade, John, Mycroft, Harriet, John's parents, and double agents are all involved?  
> Chaos.

Moriarty POV

I walked into the throne room, not bothering to conceal my face. John sat on the throne, not meeting my eyes.

“Moriarty,” He said, “What do you want?”

“I know who you’re dealing with,” I drawled, “Naughty King John, playing games with the enemy.”

“What do you mean?” He asked.

“I know Sherlock has come to see you, and that he's here now,” I said, before calling, “You can come out now!"

Sherlock quietly entered the room out, gun raised, “Leave, Moriarty. Now.”

“Not going to happen,” I tilted my head, amused at the pair of them, “This is just wonderful. Everything I need in one place.”

I saw John tense, just slightly, “What do you mean, everything you need?”

I couldn’t help but smile as I walked to the throne room doors and threw them open, “This!”

 

Lestrade POV

We pulled everything off perfectly. As soon as Moriarty walked in and the doors were closed, Harriet and John’s parents were brought to the doors. We easily slipped in and killed the guards without a single noise.

“I can’t explain everything now, but you’re in grave danger,” I whispered urgently to the shocked trio, “We’re part of the Resistance, but we’re working with King John. He and Sherlock are in there with the most dangerous man in the world. I need to stay here, but these people will take you to safety. This is Viktor, Oleg, Jared, Natalie, and Alexey. They’re trusted agents.”

All three nodded and the group left. I sighed and slumped against the wall for a second before hiding, waiting for the next step.

 

Sherlock POV

I couldn’t help but smile when Moriarty threw open the doors, expecting to see the King’s family in captivity and instead finding nothing.

“Oh, very clever, Sherlock. I am impressed. I suppose you irritating brother or his eye candy is behind this,” He closed the doors, “Remind me to hunt them down later.”

“I won’t, because you’ll be dead. I can shoot you now, any time you wish,” He threatened.

“Well, you could cherish the look of surprise on my face,” He widened his eyes and opened his mouth, the barest hint of a smile showing, “Because I’d be surprised, Sherlock, I really would. And, well, just a teensy bit disappointed! Of course, you wouldn’t be able to cherish it for very long. Ciao, Sherlock Holmes.”

He opened the doors and walked out.

“Catch you later,” I said, following him with my gun all the way out.

“No you won’t!” He sang, slamming the doors behind him.

I waited twenty horrible seconds before opening the door again, “Gregory, get in here, now.”

Lestrade emerged and slipped inside the throne room as I turned to introduce him to John.

“King John, this is Greg Lestrade, one of the leaders of the Resistance. Or, if you as Moriarty, eye candy,” I smirked slightly as Lestrade expressed his dissent, then continued, “He coordinated saving your family. They’re being kept safe for another fifteen minutes, then agents of the Resistance will bring them here.”

John walked forwards, no longer limping. “It’s an honour. Thank you for helping my family.”

“I’m helping Sherlock, not you, you lying son of a bitch bastard,” Lestrade spat.

 

John POV

A door creaked behind me, and I turned.

“Sorry, boys, I’m so changeable! It is a weakness with me, but, to be fair to myself, it is my only weakness. You can’t be allowed to continue,” Said Moriarty, smiling with all the glee of a child who just got a large birthday present, “But I thought I would make this fun and burn you all at once, so bring out the parade!”

I was confused for a second, but when the door opposite Moriarty’s opened, I understood. My mother and father, Harriet, and Mycroft were being escorted into the room, gagged and being roughly handled by a group of five people, dressed in all black except for their faces.

“Lestrade, those are the agents I told you  _ not  _ to use!” Sherlock turned on Gregory, “Why didn’t you pay attention?”

“I thought you just didn’t like them,” He protested, “Not that they were John’s agents!”

“Not mine!” I said, truthfully.

Moriarty chuckled, “They’re my agents, separate from John’s. And they’re ever so useful.”

I growled. “Let them go, now.”

“Not happening,” Moriarty sang. I’m going to kill them, one by one, after torturing them slowly. You’re going to be forced to watch as they slowly die, until you are broken in your heart and soul. And when you are all only husks of the men you are now, I will do the same to you until you have no breath to scream and no muscles left to move, as I rule the kingdom and crush the resistance once and for all.”  
  


Mycroft POV

I listened to Moriarty, knowing what needed to be done.

I met Sherlock’s eyes, blinked a short code, met Gregory’, and blinked a different one. They indicated their understanding, and we all prepared mentally for what we had to do.

In unison, we moved. Sherlock yelled two words and fired a single, precise shots as Gregory ran towards John’s family, deftly pulling a few strings.

My bonds split and my guard killed by the shot, I ran towards Moriarty, but he had escaped in the confusion. To my surprise, however, there was blood on the floor. I glanced towards Sherlock, who was looking down at the king in surprise.

John had ducked at Sherlock’s command of ‘Vatican cameos’, but had immediately drawn his gun and fired at Moriarty. He was now getting to his feet, breathing heavily. He stumbled towards his family and they hugged and cried as Sherlock, Gregory and I silently walked out of the room, following Moriarty.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am so sorry that you had to go through that...  
> HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA NO I'M NOT!!!!!!!  
> Actually I was crying while writing it so I am a little sorry.  
> I know I say this every time, and every AO3 writer ever says it, but comments fuel me forever, and especially with this story arc, let me know what you think!  
> Enjoy the long chapter, and see you Monday!  
> By the way: If you can spot the very clever joke hidden in the chapter, you get extra credit (on what, I have no idea). If you really want to know, go ahead and ask below.


	11. Traps

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Harry is a lesbian and Molly is introduced.

Sherlock POV

We walked for hours, following every possible trail, backtracking, and trying again. Eventually, we had to give up out of lack of light, time, and sheer exhaustion. We walked back to the palace, where John was waiting. He saw our expressions and sighed. 

"No luck, then?" He asked.

"If we had any luck, Moriarty would be in your hands or dead," I said crisply, "We need more information on him."

John set on his throne, head in hands, "I don't have anything. He shows up every so often in a distinctive robe, threatens me, tells me what to do. I don't know where he stays or what he does otherwise."

"The cape, what color is it?" Mycroft asked.

John looked up, "Red with gold embroidery. Why?"

"Did he ever wear any other color?" I pressed, immediately understanding my brother's inquiry.

"Yes, there was one time, the very first time, he wore purple," the king reported, "The same color as my robes."

Lestrade pointed at John, "Bingo."

"Excuse me?" John asked, "I don't understand."

"You should put that on a t-shirt." Said a voice. 

All three of us turned to see a young woman walking forwards.

I walked towards her, "You must be Harriet. I'm Sherlock, and that's my brother and his husband, Mycroft and, ah. . ."

"You know it's Greg," he snapped.

"Right," I said, "So, Harriet, what do you think? Don't be as slow as your brother, please."

John sighed.

"First of all, call me Harry," she warned, "And believe what you're going for is that only the king has access to that color of fabric due to the rarity of the snail that provides the dye. Either John is personally acquainted with him, enough to provide him fabric, or he's somewhere close to the castle. He obviously isn't being provided for by John, or he would tell us and there would no need for the capes and meetings. Therefore, Moriarty is hiding in or close to the castle."

I smiled, "Exactly. Now, I need a complete schematic of the castle and surrounding area, as soon as possible."

"No need, brother mine," said Mycroft, "We can further deduce and conclude without that."

"Please, explain," I invited.

"The embroidery," He explained, "Gold. Not common, even in the palace. So he needs a supply of it, and someone to stitch it. That narrows it down considerably. To my knowledge, there are only three seamstresses in the area, besides the King's personal one. One of them works for us so we rule her out."

"Second travels to outlying villages too often for her to work with Moriarty. Too much of a chance for loose lips and whispered secrets," I continued.

"Rule the third one out as well," Harry said, "She's not spending her nights with him."

"Harry!" John stood.

She smiled, "Sorry not sorry. You know about me, little brother, stop being scandalized. We narrowed down the seamstresses to just one. Yours."

John shook his head, "Not a chance. I vet all my servants thoroughly and personally."

"Try harder next time," Lestrade snapped, "And summon her, now."

John complied. By the time she arrived, I was pacing behind the throne, fingers steepled.

"My lord," the woman bowed, "How may I be of service?"

"Molly Hooper. Thank you. These are Sherlock, Mycroft, and Gregory. They have a few questions," John said, "Don't bother lying, just answer them."

She nodded.

 

Molly POV

I watched the trio nervously. The shorter one, Gregory, spoke first.

"Are you aware of a man by the name of Moriarty?" He asked.

I tensed and scratched my neck, "No."

"Elevated breathing, tensed muscles, hand to-face grooming contact. Lie," said the pacing man. Sherlock.

"Let's try again," Mycroft sail, "What is you connection with James Moriarty?"

I took a deep breath, "We met years ago. He enticed me, got me to steal for him. Little things. Dye, red cloth, gold embroidery thread. I thought nothing of it, even when he asked me to stitch for him. A purple cloak and a red one with the same symbols on the bottom. He said he wanted to run away, to seem royal. I trusted him. I'm sorry."

"You caused the threatening of my entire family and the potential downfall of the entire nation. I should behead you where you stand," John growled.

I fell to my knees, "Oh. please, no, King Watson, I'll do anything, please don't kill me."

"You've done quite enough, Miss Hooper," Gregory snapped.

I fell silent. Sherlock approached John and muttered something in his ear. John nodded.

"Molly Hooper, I hereby-" 

"Don't do anything," interrupted the king's sister.

He turned, "Excuse me?"

"Don't do anything, " she said carefully, "Leave Miss Hooper alone. Let Moriarty get back in touch with her, then spring the trap."

John rose, "Are you telling me what to d, sister mine? You who have done unspeakable things have no right to instruct your king."

"Yes, but I do have the right to tell my little brother he's being an idiot," she snapped, "Now, Molly, get in contact with Moriarty and tell him whatever he wants to hear just get him to the palace!"

I nodded and curtsied, "Yes, my lady, " I turned to the men,"King. My lords."

The King nodded and I left in a hurry.

As soon as I was back to my chambers I got in contact with James Moriarty.

 

_ James, _

_ They have fallen into our trap. Come quickly. _

_ All my love, _

_ Molly Hooper _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know this is late I'm really really sorry but here it is. I hope you liked the twist!  
> Also, please LMK what you think. I always love seeing a comment, no matter what the content is! Tell me you hate it, or tell me you love it!
> 
> See you Friday... Hopefully!


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